Calculation
by Idan
Summary: Tag to Ball of Fire. Jane ponders Rachel Bowman's plan and what it might imply.


**Disclaimer** : I'm making no money off this and make no claim to these characters.

 **Author's Note** : This is a short one shot that occurred to me after watching Ball of Fire the other day. And for those of you waiting for more Letters to Teresa, Christmas is coming soon. :)

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Jane sipped his tea and tried to look annoyed rather than delighted by Lisbon's sarcastic wish for a cattle prod. As if he didn't know she was far too kind, deep down, to ever use one. At least, not merely to cause pain.

She was, after all, the best person he knew.

Something itched at the back of his mind, but he set it aside. For now he just wanted to rest his aching body and soothe himself with tea and banter. Then he'd nap on his couch, and all would be back to normal. Thinking could wait.

He managed to achieve most of his plan, but Lisbon wouldn't let him spend the night at the office. "I'm not leaving until you do. And I'm telling the guards not to let you back in until morning," she announced around 10 o'clock, when she gave up on him leaving on his own. "You can crash at my place if you don't have anywhere else to go. But you need to sleep in a real bed."

"I'm a big boy, Lisbon," he replied, blinking up at her. He'd hoped pretending to be asleep would inspire her to leave him alone. "I can look after myself."

"Despite all evidence to the contrary," she retorted. "Come on, get up. I'm tired. It's been a long day, and I don't need you to make it longer."

He was tempted to follow her home like a lost puppy and let her fuss over him. It would probably assuage the lingering anxiety she felt after his kidnapping. He imagined she'd been desperate to find him, more than she would have been for any other member of her team only because he had no training for these situations. And she'd be worried he'd make it worse, since she thought he often pissed people off for no good reason. Which wasn't true; he always had a good reason.

But he needed to think. And the general direction of his thoughts told him spending the night with her, however chaste, would be a very bad idea.

"Fine." He sat up. "I will indulge with a night at a five-star hotel. My aching muscles deserve a high quality mattress. Maybe even a massage in the morning."

Lisbon tried to mask her disappointment. "I'll drive you. I can pick you up tomorrow, or check on you if you want to take a day off. It's good you'll have room service available. You might wake up really sore."

She must be really worried if she was suggesting time off, he thought. And she had a point; he might be too sore to drive tomorrow. He had a better chance of getting to the office in the morning if she came to get him. "Fine. If you insist."

"I do insist." Lisbon folded her arms and looked triumphant.

He had to wipe the smirk off her face just on principle, but his groans as he got to his feet weren't fake, to his dismay. He felt much, much worse after inactivity.

Lisbon sprang to his side, but when he balanced himself on his feet, she didn't touch him. He was relieved, since his arms ached. "Lead on," he invited.

She didn't talk much on the drive to the hotel he specified, which was one of the many things he appreciated about her. She wasn't a chatterer by nature, and any idle conversation she initiated had a purpose he could discern. She was both translucent to him and trustworthy, which made her a restful person to be around. He should tell her someday how grateful he was for that.

But when she pulled up to the grand entrance, popping her trunk so the bellhop could retrieve the go bag she'd gotten from his car, he merely smiled. "Thanks, Lisbon."

"Get some sleep. Call me if you need anything."

"I will," he lied. Part of his reason for staying somewhere with a concierge was so she could have a night of uninterrupted sleep. "Sweet dreams."

"You too." She had to know it was a vain hope for both of them, but she smiled reassuringly.

He turned when he got safely in the door and waved, letting her know it was okay to leave. She was exhausted, after all. She waved back and drove off, and he dealt with checking in as quickly as possible.

A hot shower and the sinfully soft bed lulled him into a doze, but he woke two hours later in a cold sweat, breathing hard. His subconscious was unusually direct tonight, he thought as he reviewed the nightmare: instead of Rachel, it was Red John, grotesquely masked, who'd brought Lisbon down the stairs to where he was chained. And there was no smell of gasoline, only a blade, to hint at the horror to come.

That was what had been nagging at him earlier. Rachel had wanted to punish him for taking away the most important person in her life, so she'd chosen the most important person in his. How had she known it was Lisbon?

He thought back over the Bowman case. Yes, he and Lisbon had dealt with Rachel together; she often kept an eye on him during cases, especially if she felt protective of the other party. And Rachel had brought out her maternal instincts. She'd been unhappy when she found out about the forged letter, and she hadn't let him speak to Rachel afterward until the girl had insisted.

This was the important question: had she read their closeness off Lisbon, or off him? Because if he was telegraphing feelings beyond the professional, he was putting Lisbon in danger. Red John was surely better at that sort of thing than poor crazy Rachel.

Red John liked to toy with him through people close to him. He'd taken Kristina instead of killing her because Jane had shown interest in her; it wasn't unreasonable to infer that he might do something to Lisbon if Jane got too close. Red John was probably savoring what he knew Jane must be dreading, so it wouldn't be immediate, but it was almost inevitable.

He should push Lisbon away, for her own good. The problem was, she was far too stubborn to be pushed away, and he couldn't walk away as long as she had the Red John case. Ideally, he'd get the case reassigned to another team he could transfer to and easily manipulate. But given what had happened to Bosco, that didn't seem realistic.

And he didn't want to. That was the biggest problem. He was selfish and set in his ways, and he didn't want to work with anyone but Lisbon. He just had to find some way to keep her safe.

What lessons would Red John draw from this incident? Jane let out a long breath and listed them in his mind.

A. Jane is vulnerable. He can be snatched anytime he's away from the CBI team.

B. The team is emotionally attached to Jane and will pull out all the stops to find him when he's missing.

C. Lisbon will put herself in extreme danger for Jane's sake.

D. The team is even more attached to Lisbon and will stop at nothing to find her.

E. They are likely to succeed.

That last item cheered Jane up considerably. If Red John knew that threatening Lisbon would push her dedicated team to the limit to find her—and possibly him—he wouldn't do it unless it was part of his end game.

That assurance was worth being cattle prodded, Jane decided. He needed to check his thinking later when his mind was clear, but for now he felt relieved. Protecting Lisbon wasn't up to just him; Cho, Rigsby, and Van Pelt were equally dedicated. As long as the team stayed together, he could trust them to share the task.

He wouldn't delegate it entirely, of course; there were too many times he and Lisbon were alone together on cases. But he didn't need to deprive them both of the little friendly moments that meant so much. They could keep sharing ice cream and bickering. He could keep bringing her coffee and bear claws when she needed them.

Jane was a little surprised at how relieved he was. But then, it was human nature to yearn for connection with other people. He needed someone to be comfortable with and occasionally confide in, and she was his choice.

He was fortunate that in Lisbon he had a friend who wouldn't fool herself into misinterpreting his actions as romantic. She'd probably run for the hills if he tried romancing her, fearing it was a con. She accepted him as the damaged man he was and tried to take care of him while expecting him only to solve cases and not take stupid risks.

Really, he should do something to show his gratitude. He decided he'd invite her to breakfast in the hotel dining room. He bet they had really excellent coffee and pastries. He might even get an omelette into her. And they could get coffee and pastries to go, for the others.

Yes. That would be perfect.

With a groan, he rolled over, yawning. A few minutes later he was asleep again, a little smile on his face.


End file.
